


1,255 Miles

by eleshi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Olympics, British Allura, Cuban Lance (Voltron), HYPE, Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Long-Distance Relationship, Team USA, This is going to be long, ahhhhhhh, im excited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 08:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11643099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleshi/pseuds/eleshi
Summary: "Lance, how does it feel being in the spotlight?""Is it true that you and Team USA's Keith Kogane are an item?""Show off those metals for us!"//It isn't easy being an Olympic level swimmer.It also isn't easy to be one of the most famous athletes in the world.Who would of thought that a boy from Cuba would get this far?





	1,255 Miles

**Author's Note:**

> This is the opening chapter so if it's a bit slow im soooorrrryyyy. I promise, it will get better.

The light from the clock in the hotel room was unnecessarily bright. It happened to be another reason why Lance couldn’t sleep. He had to get up in two hours anyways, to catch the plane to Rio. Thoughts swirled through his mind. His first Olympics. He hoped it wouldn’t be his last. 

Rolling over, he spotted Hunk in the beside his. They had met a while ago at an Olympian banquet. Hunk was on the US team, but that couldn’t keep their friendship apart. Pidge, another US team member, was friends with Hunk before they met Lance. A great friend group was formed that day. 

Lance was tempted to wake the larger boy. He needed his best friend at times like these. Pidge was in a different hotel, since she had been sorted into the other group. This left Lance alone.

The plane would leave Florida at five in the morning. Lance, a Cuban team member, had to fly to Florida to meet with the US team before heading to their destination. It would be a straight flight to Rio that way. 

He missed his room. The way it smelled. The posters on the walls. The medals hanging on the hooks. His family.

Swimming had taken up more time than anything else in Lance’s life had. Weekends full of meets. Practicing every day. For one goal; winning gold at this summer’s Olympics. 

The gold medal swam around in Lance’s head as he fell back to sleep.

~

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Hunk’s hand smacked the alarm, groaning as it hit the floor. 

“Whoops,” he said as his threw his covers off. He took one step to the other bed, shaking the smaller boy. “Laaaaaaance. Today’s the day.”

Lance grumbled and pressed his face into his pillow. “What time is it?”

“4:15. We have to be on the bus to the airport in, ah, fifteen-ish minutes.”

Lance jumped up, suddenly wide awake. Fifteen minutes? Did Hunk really think he could get ready in that time?

After a rushed version of morning routines and quite a bit of screaming, Hunk and Lance jumped onto the shuttle bus, suitcases lazily lugged behind them. It smelled like morning dew and cigarettes. 

The only standing spot open was towards the front of the bus. Lance grabbed the handle above him, not wanting to fall in front of a bus full of American and Cuban Olympic athletes. His reputation was a precious object that he never wanted to ruin. 

“Hey,” a stern voice sounded from the seat next to where Lance was standing. “Watch where you’re putting your suitcase.” 

Lance’s first impression of the grumpy boy was that he was beautiful. An angel, halo and all, framed in the dim light of the bus. He appeared Asian, but not fully. He had the kind of aura that made Lance want to know more. He wore a hard expression, frowning with his mouth and his purple tinted eyes. He had a...mullet? 

“Oops,” Lance smirked innocently as he rolled his case a bit closer to the annoyed person sitting beside him. “My bad.” Hunk slowly turned, listening in on the events behind him. He smiled softly at the pair.

“Keith! Good morning!”

The boy, Keith, stared up at Hunk, eyes squinting to adjust to the light. He grunted in response, ignoring the chipperness of the encounter. His dark hair fluttered as cold air blasted through the vents.

Hunk’s smile faltered, and he crossed his arms, suddenly becoming cold from the harsh air conditioning. “Come on Keith. Gymnasts can smile, you know.”

Keith glared, followed by a sigh and a fake half-smile. “It’s four thirty in the morning. You can’t expect that much from me.” Even though it was summer in Florida, he was wearing a black lightweight jacket, “USA” printed on the back in red, white, and blue. Gymnast was stitched in tiny lettering on the shoulder. 

Hunk cleared his throat, motioning towards Lance. “Keith, this is Lance. He’s from Cuba.” He said this in a tone foreign to Lance; warning. He had never heard this from his best friend. 

Lance stuck his hand out towards Keith, a cheesy smile plastered on his tan face. “It’s a pleasure. A real gymnast, wow!” He winked, hoping the other caught his sarcasm. He didn’t.

“Yeah,” Keith slowly grabbed Lance’s hand. “Is this everything you ever dreamed of?”

“Lookie there,” Lance smiled. “You’re sarcastic. What a catch!”

Hunk laughed, holding a hand up for Lance to high five. “Good one, buddy!” They had a whole hand shake ordeal that Keith could barely keep up with. Like he even wanted to anyways.

The bus came to an abrupt stop, the doors opening and letting in the warm air. It was only four forty five a.m., so the air had a bit of a bite to it. Lance grabbed his large bag and hauled it out of the vehicle, thanking the driver on the way. Getting everyone out took at least ten minutes, plus they all had to make sure they had all belongings. Waiting was making him nervous. 

Hunk walked over to Lance, suitcase in tow. Keith had disappeared into the mass of athletes, and neither of them cared enough to go in and find him. So, they walked through the terminals together, laughing and chatting the whole way to baggage drop-off. 

“Wait!” Lance broke away from the large group and sprinted towards the green Starbucks sign, finally regaining consciousness at the smell of the coffee. Hunk followed close behind; he had been instructed to monitor Lance’s drink orders. Sugary syrups weren’t on the swimmer diet plan. 

“Make good choices,” Hunk slipped into line with Lance, glancing at the large clock on the wall. “We take off in thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance rolled his eyes. “No sugar, no preservatives. Have a little faith in me, buddy.”

He ended up ordering a peppermint hot chocolate. 

“I thought you said you needed coffee,” Hunk sipped his macchiato. “That is the exact opposite of coffee.” 

“I changed my mind,” Lance shrugged, swirling the whipped cream with his finger. “C’mon, you can’t blame me. Try it.” He shoved the hot drink into Hunk’s hands, smiling as he took a drink.

“I take back whatever I said.”

The intercom crackled. “Gate 1B is now boarding.” Lance’s heart fluttered. Soon enough, they would be in Rio. “That’s ours people, let’s move.” An American coach called out, rounding up the tired athletes. 

Hunk stood and reached a hand out for Lance to grab. He allowed himself to be pulled up, groaning as he did so. “Remind me why we didn’t sign up for the later plane.”

“The ‘later plane’ boards in twenty minutes. And we didn’t really have a choice. They just split us all in half.” Hunk picked up his carry on and started towards the gate.

“Yeah. but,” Lance threw his backpack on and walked quickly after his friend. “Still.”

The plane filled quickly, seeing that the group of olympic athletes took up all of the seats. Lance slipped into a small row, taking the seat next to the window. He saw his luggage on a cart zipping towards the plane, the blue of the handle sticking out of the pile. 

Hunk sat in the seat next to Lance. “Ready to party?”

“Almost,” Lance grinned and took out his headphones. Flying made him nervous, and music always seemed to help. “Perfect. Ready for takeoff, captain.”

“Aye aye, matey,” they laughed. “Whoops.”

The plane jolted, making Lance jump. A stewardess walked into the aisle, smiling a little too bright for the early morning. She pointed out the exits, showed them how to fasten their seatbelts, and displaying the many safety devices stored under their seats. Finally, after the spiel, the plane entered the runway. 

Lance leaned his head back and closed his eyes, turning up his music to max volume.

Before they knew it, they were flying through the sky. The plane was scheduled to arrive in Rio de Janeiro around 2 pm. So, Lance decided to do one of the things he did best. 

Sleep.

~

“Lance? We’re landing.”

Hunk nudged the sleeping boy, gathering his things as the plane hit the runway. It rattled, waking Lance from his slumber. 

“Woah. How long was I out?” He stretched, throwing his arms above his head. 

“Well, we’re here. So,” Hunk groaned as he stood up, his legs stiff from sitting so long. Everyone else on the plane followed his lead and stood.

“New record,” Lance grinned and rolled off his seat. He landed with an ‘oof’.

Hunk laughed lightly and moved into the aisle. “I’m leaving. You can throw yourself around when we get off this thing.” 

As Lance soon learned, Rio wasn’t as hot as he thought it’d be. Cuba was usually 90 degrees during the summer months. Here, it was barely hitting 80. He grabbed his light jacket out of his bag. 

The airport was crowded. Colors flooded the area, flags popping up from all directions. The sun shone through the windows, and Lance felt the need to run outside and lay in the sun. 

“Alright, Cubans and Americans! We’re headed to baggage claim!”

The crowd of red, white, and blues traveled towards the baggage carousel. The entire event was a mess; hands grabbing and crowding around the suitcases. Lance found his and rushed towards it, not wanting to miss it. He shouldered someone, yet he didn’t stop to apologize, as his suitcase had started to vanish from view. A growl emitted from behind him. 

“Watch it,” Keith stood behind him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. 

“Oh! Sorry babe,” Lance winked as he picked up his luggage and lugged it towards him. “Didn’t see you there. You’re so, what’s the word? Tiny?”

“I’m literally only a few inches shorter than you,” Keith grumbled, staring at the opening where the bags rolled out of. 

Lance smiled his award winning smile. “Which one’s yours? I can grab it for you...babe.”

“I can get it,” Keith pushed Lance away and stalked towards the carousel. He gripped his suitcase and hoisted it off the moving plates before walking away in a different direction. 

“Don’t poke the bear,” a small voice sounded from next to him. 

“Pidge!” Lance bent down and picked up the girl, spinning around to the point where they were both dizzy. “I think you’ve grown!”

Pidge shook her head and took off her glasses. “Please keep in mind that I am also a bear. Do not poke me, please.” She had definitely gotten the slightest bit taller since Lance had last seen her. Not enough to make a huge difference. Her hair was cut above her shoulders, splaying out in each and every direction. The mischievous grin was definitely the same. 

“Note taken,” Lance waved at Hunk, who had just grabbed his bag. He sauntered his way over to the others, smiling at the new face. 

“Pidge!” Hunk enveloped the smaller figure in his arms. “Long time no see.”

Pidge rolled her eyes, keeping a smile on her face. “If you count two days ago as a ‘long time’.”

“Time to move out!” The voice echoed through the corridor. Lance laughed and clicked on the handle of his suitcase. “That’s our...cue.” It took him a second to find the right word. As good as he was at English, some things just took longer to formulate. Being bilingual isn’t easy.

The large group, even larger now that the two different planes had met up, shuffled towards the exit. Lance felt giddy, the nerves already at work.

“Hey,” Hunk laid a hand on Lance’s shoulder, obviously noticing the tension in his manner. “Don’t worry. You’re going to do amazing.”

Lance smiled. “Thanks, I’m just... I don’t know what to expect, ya’know?”

“The great thing about this is, not many people do.”

From the minute they stepped outside into the bright Brazilian sun to the minute they got in the large bus to go to the Olympic Village, Lance had ran into a trash can, dropped his backpack into a small puddle, and accidentally elbowed Keith. Again. 

“You’re more of a mess than I remembered you being,” Pidge commented as she sat down beside Lance, rummaging through her bag for her camera. “No offense. Wait. Offense.”

“Hey,” Lance pushed her shoulder. “I don’t remember you being this rude.”

“Training changes people. You wouldn’t know.”

Lance opened his eyes wide. “Excuse you? I train just as much as you! I, well...I don’t need it.”

“We all know you’re secretly a merman,” Hunk slid into the seat next to Pidge, barely fitting into the already packed row. “You can’t deny it.”

“Shh,” Lance put his finger over his mouth, sarcasm flowing through his words. “You’re too loud. Someone might hear.”

The bus moved forward, driving away from the airport doors and towards the place where they would all be staying. The scenery whipped past, the palm trees moving with the small breeze. The bus crossed over a bridge connecting two areas of land, the ocean dark and brooding. Lance wanted nothing more than to jump in and swim for an hour.

“Are we there yet?” Lance groaned, leaning his head up against the window. The mountains were in view, the sprawling buildings appearing to by laying on top of each other. The sights were gorgeous, and it only slightly reminded him of home. 

“No sweetie, just a little while longer,” Pidge mocked a motherly tone and patted Lance’s head. “Want to play patty cake to help the wait?”

“Patty cake?” he tilted his head a bit, as if he were trying to amplify his confusion.

Hunk tapped Pidge and whispered, “Do you think they have patty cake in Cuba?”

“I can hear you,” Lance pointed to himself to emphasize his point. “I’m literally in the seat next to you.”

“Oh,” Hunk shrugged before turning away from the others and leaning his head back. “I’m napping. Wake me when we get there.”

“How do you nap with all of this excitement?” Lance smiled out the window, suddenly feeling like he was the star of a sappy teenage romance movie. “I can hardly move without shaking. It’s incredible, what this can do to a-.” He looked over at both of his friends to find them both fast asleep on each other, Pidge against Hunk’s shoulder, and Hunk’s head resting on Pidge’s.

“Well. Glad everyone’s listening.”

After 40 minutes of pure agony and excited high pitched squeals, the buses pulled up to a community of tall, white apartment style buildings. A long, cement pedestrian street threaded through the buildings, leading off into shops, restaurants, and hangout areas. A few small pools were placed around the courtyard area, making for a great place to relax and de-stress. Lance smiled at a Cuban flag hanging from one of the windows.

“Guys,” he tapped Pidge, glancing back and forth out the window. “Looooooook.”

The five buses pulled up to the drop off area. They had arrived in front of a huge sign displaying “Rio2016” in blue lettering. Lance grinned. This was real.  
Everyone started to pile out, eyes wide with excitement. The bottom compartments of the buses popped open, and the suitcases were put on carts. The athletes swarmed the carts, trying to find their own bags. Hunk ran to a cart and pulled it away from the mass of people. He ran over to the others, suitcases stacked up high. “I grabbed yours.”

“Aw, what a pal,” Lance wrapped his arm around Hunk’s broad shoulders. He pointed to a red case. “Wait, who’s is this?”

“Mine,” a familiar voice appeared out of nowhere. Keith walked over, arms crossed. “Thanks, Hunk.”

“No problem,” Hunk smiled, retracting himself from Lance’s strangely strong grip. “Crowds. A waste of time.”

They waited for what felt like an eternity. Once everyone was sorted, they then had to be placed in rooms. Their key cards hung from a lanyard, each one for a different apartment suite. The officials called out names and passed them out. 

“Hey!” A voice yelled over the commotion. “The Cuban and American suites are in that building. Your room number should be on your key card.” He barely got everything in before the crowd surged forward towards their apartments.

“At least we’ll be in the same building,” Lance dragged his cart forward. He smiled back at his friends. “Maybe my roommate will be hot.”

“Ugh, please,” Pidge pulled her cart up beside Lance’s, easily gliding the wheels across the sidewalk. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“C’mon Pidge,” Lance shrugged. “This is Rio. Let’s have some fun, yeah?”

“Do you not remember what we’re here for?” Keith was still with them, which was a surprise to Lance. He whipped around, a thumbs up in view. 

“Oh, I remember,” his eyes sparkled. “Don’t you worry about a thing, sugar. I’ll bring home the gold for ya.”

Lance had never seen a human tomato before. Pidge glanced back and forth between the two, her smile blatantly obvious. They all entered the building, therefore stepping into a giant lobby area. A few elevators were located to the left. She started towards the large metal doors, smirking as she walked backwards. “See you all on the dark side.”

And with that, she disappeared into the rather large elevator. 

“I have, the..fifth floor. Room twenty five.” Lance stared at his card, as if he were trying to decipher it. Numbers were never his strong suit. 

“Room twenty five!” Hunk smiled up at his friend before frowning. “Floor seven.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Lance cracked a smile. There was no way that he was going to let his guard down. Not on the first day. “Same building. That’s awesome.”

Keith raised his card to eye level. “Hey, Hunk. I think we’re together.”

Lance groaned, looking around the entry hall. A small, modern looking chandelier hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room, but other than that, it looked quite plain. Not that Lance would complain. This was a step up from what he had. A few couches were placed around, but this was obviously not the ‘hangout’ space. Ten people could hardly sit down at once. 

“So now you’re stealing my best friend?” he crossed his arms and faked a pout. 

“Not stealing. Borrowing,” Keith grinned for the first time since Lance had met him, and the tan boy felt a tug in his stomach. It was...beautiful? Was that the word he was looking for?

As Lance was thrown into a daze, Hunk and Keith made their silent exits. Keith turned around for a second’s glance, his deep purple eyes gazing into the dark blue ones. Hunk tugged on his arm, motioning at the closing doors of the elevator. 

When Lance blinked out of his trance, the lobby had started to clear out. Only a few stragglers were left, and even they were about to go up to their rooms. Lance sighed and grabbed his suitcase, joining the line of people.

The hallway on floor five was almost empty. A couple of Cuban track runners stood outside a door, waving to Lance as he passed by. He smiled a picture perfect smile and continued, searching for room twenty five. 

He scanned the door numbers. It had started to become aggravating. Before he could start to walk any further, a voice sounded from behind him. 

“Hola! If it isn’t Lance McClain.”

Lance had never wanted to run away so much in his entire life.

Lotor stood behind him, a stupid grin on his face. His almost white hair reflected in the fim hallway lighting, his golden brown eyes crinkled. He took a small step forward. 

“Lotor,” Lance bit back a snarky comment. “Hola.”

“So,” Lotor grinned wider. “What brings you here?”

Lance stepped away, his hands now stuffed in his pockets. “The Olympics,” he deadpanned.

The white haired male laughed. “I meant to this hallway, mentecato.” His Spanish was crisp, like the leaves in fall. Lance hated it. 

“Finding my room,” Lance turned. “But, since you’re up here, I’m thinking I might go ask if I can switch rooms. I bet they’d understand, with the likes of you.”

Lotor laughed, brushing of the comment. “I’ll help you find it. I know how you are with numbers.”

Lance quickly walked away, praying that he could soon find his room and lock out that pest he sadly had to be acquainted with. They were both swimmers, trained at the same pool and everything. 

It took him five minutes to find it. Once he did, he raised his card to the slider to unlock it. A hand slapped the key down, and inserted its own key. “Don’t worry. I got it.”

Lance cursed. 

Lotor was his roommate.

~

“Guys, this is an emergency! Muy mala!”

“Lance, no one understands Spanish,” Pidge picked at her food. They were sitting in the very, very large cafeteria, filled with hundreds of tables throughout the two football field sized building. Five buffets were spread out, serving foods from all over the world. Pidge opted on a slice of pizza. “Besides, how bad could this guy be? You’re on the same team.”

“Not really,” Hunk pointed out, rolling his pasta onto his fork. “I mean, they are, but are they really?”

Pidge mumbled before taking a bite. She closed her eyes and chewed slowly. “Guys, this is incredible.”

“Not right now, Pidge,” Lance held up a hand. “This guy has been out to get me for years. We might be from the same country, but only one person gets the gold.”

Hunk looked up, noodles hanging from his mouth. He slurped them up before nodding. 

“Way to make it serious,” Pidge leaned back, her pizza fully devoured. Lance decided that her new name would be ‘bottomless pit’. 

A chair scooted out, and the three looked up. Keith slid his tray onto the table, glancing up at everyone. “What?” His food looked like something foreign...Lance couldn’t identify it. 

“Glad you made it!” Hunk smiled and leaned over to look at his food. “Whatcha got there? Japchae?” Hunk had a knack for knowing every food on the planet. All he had to do was look and smell, and bam. He knew.

Keith looked over at him, eyes wary. “Yeah. Spot on. How-.”

“Hunk is a food enthusiast,” Pidge answered the question before Keith could finish. “Like the Wizard of Oz, he knows all.”

Keith nodded and started to eat his food. The others were almost finished, so they sat back and waited silently until he finished. Lance looked around at the other athletes that had started to trickle into the cafeteria. He saw a flash of white hair, causing him to slide down under the table.

“Lance?” Hunk looked down at his friend. “Is everything okay?”

“Just great,” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around his long legs. “Pretend I’m not here.”

He waited under the white table for five minutes, eyes closed and lips sealed shut. A chair next to Keith pulled out and someone sat down. Lance prayed it wasn’t who he was avoiding. Moving ever so slowly, he pulled himself up from underneath. 

An older boy had taken the seat, his hair dark except for a white fluff in the front. He was tall, and broad, with a small scar on his nose. He looked as if he would be terrifying, but really, he wasn’t. He didn’t have the aura of being scary. Intimidating, maybe. 

The man stared strangely at Lance. He didn’t blame him; he just resurfaced after hiding from his roommate. 

“Hol-hello,” Lance waved with uncertainty, rising all the way to his seat. He needed to remember to greet people in English, since a lot of people here spoke it.

“Hello,” the man smiled and waved back. “I’m Takashi Shirogane. Keith’s coach. You can call me Shiro, though.”

Lance looked around at Pidge and Hunk. The guy, Shiro, looked much too young to be a coach. Or, at least, he thought so. 

“Nice to meet you,” he smiled, trying to show a bit more confidence than he had before. “The name’s Lance.” He winked, for emphasis. 

“Are you...hitting on my coach?” Keith pushed his bowl away, the food wiped clean. He was an example of how much athletes could eat. And even then, he was on the thinner side, with muscle, of course. 

“No, no,” he grinned, crossing his arms. 

“Anyways,” Shiro furrowed his brows. “The games start in two days. Keith, your first event is on Saturday. Four days.”

Keith shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes. “That’s fine.”

“We need to train a bit before then,” Shiro nodded. “Do you all know when your events are?”

“Two days,” Hunk smiled softly. He wore a worried look under his reassuring one. Pidge patted his shoulder, frantically trying to come up with something to say. She wasn’t the best with these things. 

“Don’t worry a thing, big guy,” Pidge finally found the words. “You’re going to do amazing, no matter what. You’re here for a reason.”

“Truly inspiring,” Lance pretended to wipe his invisible tears. Pidge rolled her eyes and hid a laugh with a cough. He stood and grabbed his tray. “I’m going to go check out the pool. See ya, losers.”

Lance walked through the village, peeking in the different stores and restaurants along the way. He was a bit overwhelmed, to say the least. The nice walk in the fresh air was just what he needed. The sky was starting to be overrun by clouds, the sun barely shining through. He wrapped his jacket tighter around him, the letters reading “CUBA” in bold stuck out on his back. A runner sprinted by on the long track lining the perimeter of the buildings. His shirt read ‘Jamaica track and field’. 

When he got to the training pool, a small scanner on the side of the door asked for his key card. He slid it in, smiling as it beeped. The glass door slowly opened, revealing a large room.

The pool was huge. Fourteen lanes wide, to be exact. It was filled with crystal blue water, slowly moving as the couple of people swimming freestyled through. Lance had never wanted to be in the water more. 

He stepped into the room. It smelled heavily of chlorine and body spray. 

“Hey, you!”

Lance twirled around at the sudden outburst. Someone was walking slowly towards him, and the first thing that came to his mind was that Pidge had cut her hair and no longer was a female. 

“Hello?” Lance smiled to make the room less tense. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” the boy approached him, suddenly so close that Lance could smell his ‘old spice’ deodorant. He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “I was looking for my sister? I think she’s mentioned you before, so I figured maybe you knew where she was?”

Lance examined him, smiling as he raised his finger. “As a matter of fact, I do know where Pidge is. Why would she be in here, though…?”

“I’ve been looking everywhere,” he shrugged. “I’m Matt.”

“Lance. It’s a pleasure.”

“Cuba, huh?” Matt started to walk towards the doors, as if telling Lance to lead the way to his sister. “Do you swim?”

Lance followed, pressing close behind Matt. “Of course! Swimming is the coolest sport, so, figures.”

“Right,” Matt pushed the doors open. A gush of chilly air blew into the humid pool arena. 

“So, are you in an event?” Lance looked around, trying to remember where he came from. The place was big, and he expected to get lost a few times. He turned completely around before heading to the left. “I think it’s this way.”

Matt squinted and fixed his glasses. “No, actually. Family members are allowed in the village with special permission.”

Lance nodded. A couple walked by, hand in hand. They smiled as they passed. He felt a tug on his heart, but as he always did, he pushed that feeling away, and smiled back.

They walked through the doors to the cafeteria, the crowd starting to die down, as it was almost seven o’clock. It wasn’t hard to spot Pidge. She was sitting on the table, laughing about something with Hunk. Keith and Shiro were gone. 

“Pidge!” Matt approached the table, hands in his pockets. Pidge snapped her head up, surprised to see her brother. 

“Matt!” She jumped off the table into Matt’s arms, her arms flailing. Lance suddenly missed his family. 

When they finished, Pidge smiled over at Lance “So, you met my pain in the ass of a brother.” 

“Hey!” Matt narrowed his eyes down at her, since she was quite a bit shorter than him. “When I was sixteen, I never said those things.”

Pidge laughed maniacally. “It’s because I’m cooler,” she informed the others.

Hunk stood up and waved at the others. “I’m hitting the hay, guys. It’s going to be a big day tomorrow.” 

“The opening ceremony!”

“Hit the hay?” 

Lance and Pidge showed two completely different expressions as they spoke simultaneously. “I’m going too,” Pidge looked over at Matt. She grabbed his arm and started towards the door, waving over her shoulder. 

Lance was the last one to leave the cafeteria, dreading every step of the way back to his room. 

~

“Oh, you’re back!” 

“Lotor, please. Not right now.” Lance walked in without knocking and threw his jacket onto the small white couch along the wall. He walked through the open door to the bedroom, throwing off his shirt and tossing it in his suitcase.

“Woah,” Lotor rose from his place on the couch. “Someone’s a bit moody today.”

Lance slipped on a bigger sleeping shirt. “Yeah, well, it’s been a long day.” He walked into the bathroom and washed his face, before changing out of his jeans. He stalked over to the bed nearest to the window. “This is my side. That is your side. Got it?”

“What, you think I’m going to assault you? Or something?” Lotor pretended to be shocked. “Why would you think that?”

“I said, not right now.”

Lance ducked under the blue comforter and sank into the mattress. The window was open, so he could hear the ocean. It reminded him of home.

“Okay, okay,” Lotor disappeared into the bathroom, muttering explicit sentences in Spanish. Neither one of them were happy with their roommate.

Lance fell asleep to the crashing of waves and the thought of the gold metal placed gingerly around his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers!  
> Gosh okay so.  
> This is kind of something I came up with in the shower. My exact thoughts: "hey, what if Lance was in the Olympics? What if...they ALL were in the Olympics?"  
> Basically I needed a break from the angst of my other fic (yes, that is still happening, don't worry) but this is going to be fluff and tons of fun and I'm super excited!  
> Here's some stuff you need to know:  
> 1) I did a lot of research for this. A LOT. And this is only the first chapter. Bear with me while I try to work with terms and other things.  
> 2) Some of this may not be completely accurate. Listen up, it's fanfiction. Use your imagination!  
> 3) I DON'T SPEAK SPANISH! If I ever say something that's completely incorrect, please please pleeeeaasse let me know. I want the best for you all.  
> 4) Pidge is a girl for this fic! It makes it a lot easier to work with. Thanks for hanging in there.
> 
> Alrighty, that's about it. I love you all so much, thanks for your support!  
> xoxo


End file.
